


You have always been just like me

by hisaribi



Series: ships and characters weeks 2017-2019 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Gen, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, three times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisaribi/pseuds/hisaribi
Summary: Peter prayed for the Moon to send him back in time and change past, so his pack, or, at least, his precious Stiles would survive. Moon granted his wish in an unexpected way.





	You have always been just like me

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no, it's 27th there, so I guess it's time to post one more, and the last for this year, Steter week fic! It somehow has four themes, Alpha!Peter, kinda creature!Stiles, BAMF!Stiles and Time Travel.  
> Also, yes, they die three times, or four, yeah, they both die at least twice during this fic, so have fun  
> Once again, un-betaed!

 Everyone was dead. Or dying, like in the case of Peter and barely alive Stiles. They lied in the dirt, waiting for death to come. Both had so many wolfsbane bullets in them that it was certainly impossible to stay alive.

 Peter took his last power to move closer to Stiles, to just be able to touch him, when the pain would stop. Maybe, if this time death was so kind, the last thing he would remember was the touch of Stiles skin.

 Stiles also navigated himself closer, consciously or not. They fell in love somewhere in their time together. Also became much closer in later years, after Stiles’ father died because of the supernaturals against hunters war. He died right in front of Stiles, and, well, it broke him. It was quite ironic to Peter’s liking, that Stiles, the only actual human in their supernatural headquarter, lost his humanity completely.

 They grabbed each other with weakening power. The red moon looked from the dark sky like it was taunting them. Stiles kept whispering some nonsense. And Peter looked at the Moon. He prayed to all gods he could remember to send him back in time, so he could prevent what happened.

 He begged to send him in a time when his first alpha, his parent died. If his parent was still alive and an alpha, nothing would’ve happened to the Nemeton, or, at least, they would know how to deal with it. Weird enough, Peter didn’t remember if his mother or father was the alpha of the Hale pack at that time. They, probably, co-alphaed, and as a kid, it wasn’t a big difference.

 Or the Moon could have sent him back to the time of Paige and the Alpha-pack fiascos. He could kill Gerard, this old bastard, and prevent Derek’s broken heart as well. Though this time was still a little bit blurry and he wasn’t even sure if Talia didn’t mess with his memories. But well, preventing alpha pack and possible Kate would be nice.

 Kate. Fire. This was also the thing he should’ve probably be able to prevent, and that would affect Beacon Valley a lot. The stable old pack was good for the land. Yes, Moon could have sent him at that time as well.

 Stiles fell silent. His heart didn’t beat anymore. Peter inhaled and closed his eyes. He begged Gods to give him a chance to change it all. To save everyone, or, at least, Stiles.

 

* * *

 

 Peter opened his eyes and wasn’t sure if it was a dream or some sort of limbo. Because in front of him was Stiles. Well, his sixteen years old self in the god-awful way too big shirt. Prom night, the first time when Peter died.

 It was a moment when he respected Stiles’s choice and didn’t bite him.

 Stiles tried to pull his hand away from Peter’s grip, but Peter grabbed harder.

 “I don’t want to be like you.” He didn’t sound hysterical, even though his smell screamed of an anxiety and his heart seemed to beat way too fast for any type of comfort, and yet, his voice didn’t shiver. His look was determined. Angry.

 Peter didn’t let of Stiles’ hand go, even when he tried to pull away for the second time. It was weird. There were so many times when Peter could’ve and should’ve to act differently to save everyone, to prevent so many people from dying. And yet, there he was, in front of Stiles in the garage, not letting him go.

 For some reason, Moon found this exact time suited for a great change, as an opportunity to actually prevent what was going to happen in the future. This exact second, when he let Stiles go and didn’t bite him.

 Peter smiled wickedly. He was supposed to be insane, wasn’t he?

 “Oh, sweetheart,” he began, trailing Stiles’ wrist with his nose. “You have always been just like me. Becoming a werewolf wouldn’t change things that much.”

 And before Stiles could say something, Peter bit him.

 

* * *

 

 Christopher Argent came to the hospital with this scary looking old dudes, who gave Stiles so many bad vibes. But, honestly, Stiles was raised at fucking Sheriff’s station, he saw men and women much scarier.

 But of course, he was scared shitles. Probably, he hid it a little bit better, than Jackson did, and also managed to convert his fright to rage.

 And then he was pushed to the wall and asked where Scott was. Stiles knew he knew this very well, and he also knew where alpha, Peter, was. God, his hand hurt, burnt like hot liquid was spreading inside him. But he once again converted it all to rage. Because he was capable of holding himself whole this way. He would panic when everything would be calm.

 “Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?”

 “No,” Stiles said, feeling cold. This certainly wasn’t a good sign, because just now he was hot. Was it the same for Scott? He said he just fell asleep and didn’t remember much. Anyway, there were more pressing issues, than his possible turning, or death. And he just needed to be smartass to make it all work. “But I could put it on my to-do list if you just let me go.”

 “Well, I have, and the only thing I’ve ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon.” Allison’s dad smelled like mint. Well, that was a weird thought to have while probably being told some heartbreaking story. “Do you want to know what happened?”

 “Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills.” Stiles felt cold, and his mind blurry a little bit.

 “He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head. The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?” Here goes the heartbreaking story. Stiles would’ve rolled his eyes if he didn’t need all his strength to stay straight.

 “No. And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more selective.” Gosh, it probably wasn't supposed to feel so bad. He felt how blood flowed from the bite on his hand. Gosh, and how didn’t hunters notice him bleeding? Are they that incompetent? If they are the scariest werewolf hunters, Stiles wasn’t really afraid. They were stupid. Even Jackson asked what was wrong with his hand.

 “Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?”

 Rage was overflowing. “Yeah, I did. I had to handcuff him to the radiator. Why, would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?”

 It put Mr. Argent off a little, and he paused, annoyed. Stiles _heard_ his own blood fell down on the floor. “I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that.”

 “Oh, right. Derek said you guys had a code.” Stiles moved a little bit forward and raised his chin. He was a little bit shorter than Mr. Argent, but at the moment he didn’t really feel it. “I guess no one ever breaks it.”

 “Never.”

 Such a holy simplicity. Stiles stopped believing in honest elections after he had to deal with his father’s sheriff elections, or school business, or, actually, every aspect of his life. And he was just sixteen, for god’s sake. Probably he had not enough faith in humanity left, especially lately.

 “What if someone does?”

 “Someone like who?”

 “Your sister.”

 The silence fell. And Stiles felt something hot flowing down his face. Mr. Argent also did notice, finally. He looked both surprised and angry.

 “You was bitten as well.” Mr. Argent said slowly. He looked down, seeing Stiles’ hand. Stiles also looked down, and, crap, the blood was black. Just like Derek’s blood was after wolfsbane bullets.

 “So what, would you prefer to put me down right now? The morgue is close, how convenient.”

 “No need,” Mr. Argent said and stepped back. “The bite didn’t take, you would be dead by morning, so no need to interfere.”

 Stiles felt his heart fell. Ok, so here goes this potential situation of dying. And he was lucky enough to be the one to suffer this. Mr. Argent got the gun from the holster, opened the magazine and checked bullets. Stiles was really thinking that he would die right now, but Mr. Argent just held it to Stiles.

 “Now your only chance to stay alive is to kill an alpha.”

 Fuck.

 

* * *

 

 This time Peter didn’t beat around the bush. He straight up killed Kate, reaped her head off, and also destroyed her body right in front of still alive Allison, what a concept, and Scott, who didn’t really change much.

 It was bloody, it was ugly, it was trauma-inducing, and he didn’t even get shot, because Chris was still unconscious and Allison scared to movelessness. He stood above the corpse and breathed heavily, his body transformed to the enormous beast. Derek was somewhere near, but he didn’t dare come closer yet.

 He heard the car coming, it was Jackson’s Porsche for sure. Well, here goes the last act of this show. He turned to the car and roared.

 Stiles stood there with Molotov’s cocktail, nothing new, Peter was almost disappointed. He wasn't able to distinguish what they were saying, but he saw black blood, and Stiles looked way too pale. The bite didn’t take, and Peter felt terror. Did he just kill his precious Stiles?

 He paused and didn’t even catch thrown at him cocktail this time, and the fire was there. It didn’t hurt less, but his time he was waiting for it.

 And then Stiles out of nowhere pulled the gun. Peter knew Stiles wouldn’t miss. He was a great shoot, despite his condition. He stood just right and shoot. One bullet pierced his heart. He heard Derek and Scott screaming, and then there were more shots, in his chest and abdomen.

 Peter fell down on the ground and found strengths to look up and crawl toward Stiles. It could’ve been the last time he saw Stiles because so many bullets – that made hard to come back from the dead. He wanted to see him, even so young and, probably, dying.

 Stiles held gun aimed at Peter’s head, and Peter smiled.

They discussed what would’ve happened if Peter bit Stiles back then, with his loved one, lying on the couch while watching some stupid comedy. Stiles said that he would’ve killed Peter if he was bitten. Glad to see, that Stiles did know himself well enough.

 “Just like I said, Stiles.” He wheezed. “You have always been like me.”

 Stiles shoot. He didn’t miss.

 The last thing Peter saw was how Stiles fell down on his knees and threw black blood up. And then there was nothing.

  

* * *

 

 Peter didn’t really remember his Lydia haunting neither the first nor this time. The thing he could never forget was how he came back to life. That’s a feeling one can’t possibly easily get used to, and Peter would have preferred to never have.

 He breathed and stood up. Here was Hale house, and there was Lydia, but for this ritual to work, she needed an alpha. Peter squeezed the hand he was holding harder. It was neither Derek nor Stiles and not even Scott, which confused Peter.

 He looked closer, and it was quite a familiar figure. Kali, Peter didn’t even have to ask how she got there. He had this feeling that alpha pack came to Beacon Hills almost right after his death, or, at least, somewhere around this time. Peter was surely lucky, not only he was revived, but also he was brought an alpha to take the spark from. She was unconscious, and Peter didn’t spare a second, put his claws to her throat. He didn’t stop only at that, clawing her ribs open and taking her entrails out, so she was certainly dead.

 He felt alpha power flow inside, and this sensation was also almost new. It was more painful than Peter remembered though. His scream turned into a roar, and betas, whoever it was now, would definitely hear him. or, at least, feel. Because he himself felt weak links to all members of his pack. He felt Lydia, who sat near the corpse with an absente look on her face. Cora, somewhere far-far away, but alive for sure. He felt Derek, still somehow close, which meant he was in Beacon Hills, probably took upon himself a responsibility to take care of the only newly bitten beta, because of Stiles…

 Actually, he felt Stiles loud and clear. Their link was there, which meant Stiles somehow survived the bite. And the feel from this link wasn’t human, it was a werewolf. Peter had the need to actually run to him, check on him, but patience is the virtue. So Peter closed his eyes, remembering what he did last time.

 “Lydia,” he said to the girl, who still wasn’t completely herself, blankly looking in front of her, not even reacting to the corpse. “You have guests at your home, deal with them and make sure your place is whole.”

 Lydia nodded, stood up and walked away, like in the mist. Peter looked at the body near his legs. Well, he would have to spend night disposing of it and then moving back to his apartment to wash and find some clean clothes.

  

* * *

 

 He wasn’t waiting for anyone to bump at his door at six fucking AM. Nobody was supposed to even know about this apartment, at least, not for another five years. Peter strained his hearing to understand who was behind the door, but his senses were still weak, despite him being an alpha now.

 Peter reluctantly stood up from the bed and moved to the door. The closer he got less he believed his senses.

 He opened the door without even asking who it was.

 “So, you are alive and alpha again,” Stiles said and licked his lips. “Was biting me that necessary?”

 Peter didn’t have words. Because the person in front of him? He looked like a kid, but moved and held himself just like Stiles did – would do – in ten years. He smelled differently, werewolf scent aside. Though he still wore those god awful t-shirts. Stiles grinned and came in, giving Peter coffee-cup.

 “Here, your favorite and doesn’t even have an aconite in it, though I’m pretty angry.” Stiles acted like he had been there thousands of times like he was an owner there. He was.

 Peter closed the door right when Stiles sat on the couch and looked at him with slight disbelieve.

 “How?” Peter asked and sat down right next to him. Looking at him and not trusting his luck. That was his Stiles, but, at the same time, not exactly.

 “You wasn’t the only one who prayed to the Moon,” Stiles said, moving closer and binding their fingers. He raised it and kissed Peter’s knuckles. “Though I had to die and be reborn as a werewolf to really remember. But I’m happy you don’t have a scar all over your face. You know, I shoot you there, which I apologize for, but...”

 “Don’t feel sorry about.” Peter finished. He put the coffee-cup on the table and turned to Stiles.

 “Also my meds don’t work anymore and I had to quit lacrosse as to not kill anyone. And we have a bunch of issues now, though, thankfully, the kanima is not one of them.”

 “Issues can wait,” Peter said firmly but gently, hugging Stiles really close and scenting him. Gosh, he missed this scent, despite only not having him close for two days. Well, two days and almost two months of being dead.

 “They do.” Stiles murmured and traced Peter’s neck down with his fingers. They were much softer than he remembered. Well, Stiles became softer and younger.

 He was thin and not filled out yet, and wasn’t it a bummer. Though Peter still hugged him as close as he could. Making sure he was real. He was here.

 Oh, Moon, he was here, with him. Whatever issues they had, they would manage. Because now they had at least ten more years of expertise, and also they had each other. Also a big bonus, Peter was alpha again, and Stiles became a werewolf.

 Peter inhaled Stiles’ scent. And moved a little bit away to look at him again. His eyes shone blue, and Peter shone his red.

 Yes, this would work out.


End file.
